dancing in a puddle
by Storiesinmymind12
Summary: based off the beauty that is High Line Park in NY Sasha and Summer visit it on a warm fall day


Sasha took Summer's hand and led her up the metal stairs, watching her face as she climbed from the asphalt street, up through the artfully rusted sheet metal stairwell, and onto the tree- and grass-lined High Line Park. He shaded his eyes from the warm September sun, wishing he had grabbed a hat like the small-brimmed white one Summer wore. Even with sunglasses, the angle of the sun and the glare from bouncing off the few puffy white clouds made him squint in the bright, warm air. Fair weather breezes made the remaining bright red leaves dance on the trees, some leaves falling onto the drying grasses and yellow flowers. "I can't believe this exists in the middle of the city!" Summer's smile was contagious, and Sasha felt his own lips twist into a smile despite his efforts to remain unimpressed. "Beautiful, isn't it?" He didn't look away from her eyes, watching her take in the gorgeous fall day in NY.

They walked along, dodging skateboarders and overflowing café tables along the designed path, set to remind passersby of the previous use for the elevated space by incorporating the train tracks that had once offered transportation up and down the Hudson river side of lower Manhattan. After a few blocks, they happened upon prime seating: beach-style, wooden lounging chaises set into the tracks, shaded by trees. Sasha began spreading out their lunch as Summer gazed across the path to where a bunch of children played in a very shallow water feature, splashing and giggling.

She caught Sasha's eyes, smiled, and quickly kicked off her shoes to go join them. "Wanna splash in the puddle?" she asked.

"You are taking off your shoes in the middle of Greenwich Village? Did you check the ground for needles?"

"Everyone else is so unless you'd rather get your shoes wet."

"You know I don't like being barefoot except if we are in the gym."

"Okay. You sit, then." She turned up the hems of her jeans and skipped across the path to stand the chilly water. As Sasha watched, she hopped about, spraying water over the tops of her own feet. A small boy around the age of nine grabbed her hand, jumping alongside her and laughing as she spun around with him. She looked over to Sasha, waving her hand to invite him to join. He considered his feet for a moment, wondering why he resisted, his resolve to stay shod and out of the water waning in the bright joy radiated by Summer's laugh. She skipped back over to him, wet feet leaving shiny prints across the concrete walkway. She pulled at his hand and said, "Dance with me?"

"You look like you found a good partner all on your own," he joked.

"Rather young for my tastes," she said, lowering her head to look at him through her lashes. "I prefer a partner who knows his way around."

"I don't know anything about dancing barefoot in a fountain."

"That's good. It isn't a fountain."

"Do I have to take off my shoes?"

"Which would you prefer to walk back to our hotel with, feet that have dried and you put into dry shoes or wet shoes?"

"What if my feet smell?"

"Well, fortunately there is water there to wash them if they do."

"Is it cold?"

"It's chilly, but it's not very deep, so you won't freeze."

"Is the ground even?"

"Not really, but you get used to it."

His feet wiggled nervously in his shoes, and she reached over, resting her hands on his knees, stilling him. "If it really makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it. It's just playing in a puddle of water. We can do it another time if you want to wait."

"Why are you so patient with me? I'm such a mix of strange inhibitions." He rested his hands over hers, suddenly serious

"Because you are so patient with me and all my strange inhibitions. Mine are all just as strange as yours; they just aren't the same ones you have."

He sighed thoughtfully and she continued, "Do you want to? Dance with me?"

He looked at her, the sun on her hat, the droplets of water still sitting on the tops of her feet, and her expression: she smiled euphorically as he reached to untie his sneakers.

Taking his hand, she led him across the walk, stepping into the shallow water and waiting until he was ready to step his own feet in.

The water was no deeper than a puddle, still slightly chilly from the fall night, but the way it hugged his feet and rose in between each of his toes as he reached for Summer's waist and brought her hand up to his chest made even the simple act of dancing with her in a three-square-foot patch of a children's splashing puddle into a heightened, sensual moment. He looked down at her face, kissing her nose, wondering if she knew the barrier she was destroying by the simple fact of her ebullience.

A child squealed next to him and splashed, breaking the moment and separating them. Summer laughed and made to splash back, but Sasha lifted her and spun her around to return to their chaises and lunch.

He didn't put his shoes back on until it was time to leave.


End file.
